


A Small Space Challenge

by Miriam_Heddy



Series: Blond Bombshell [5]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:23:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriam_Heddy/pseuds/Miriam_Heddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But that would spoil it! No, really, look at the title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Space Challenge

The following three weeks were difficult, to say the least. November usually put Vince in a cheery mood. He liked his fuzzy jumpers and socks and shopping and the coziness of early nightfall and the crisp, bracing cold of the night air on sweat-damp skin as he left the club after hours of dancing.

Only it was all wrong. 

November was nearly over and he and Howard were still barely speaking. They'd taken to working in the shop in shifts, but as demand for lessons increased, Howard began working three days a week teaching, appearing glad for an excuse to spend less time near Vince.

At night, they still ate supper together, and if they spoke, it was as awkward as strangers on the Tube saying goodbye after a short chat. 

After--or often whilst they ate--they watched telly without much talking, or read in silence, or each listened to their own music. Then at bedtime, things were well strange, as they each readied themselves for sleep in turn, then met up in the same bed. Howard wore pyjamas in winter and Vince wore a tshirt and pants, liking his legs free. 

And, as happened the first night after their argument, they'd begin with Howard keeping a distance, seemingly waiting for Vince to decide whether to leave him alone or curl up beside him.

Yet every night, Vince did curl up beside him, only they didn't talk in intimate whispers, and they didn't say goodnight or I love you. They just slept together, at ease only in their dreams.

Then one morning, after Howard had scared off yet another customer with his scowl, Bollo offered to fix things in his own way.

"Bollo go and shake sense into Harold for Vince?"

Vince sighed. The idea held some appeal, but Bollo could be a little too enthusiastic and might shake Harold's head off his shoulders. "No, Bollo. Leave it alone, alright? I'll talk to him."

"Well, someone better do something," Naboo complained. "It's peak shopping season and his ugly face is scaring away customers."

Howard wasn't doing it on purpose. He just didn't like people, and without Vince dragging him into sales competitions or keeping his spirits up with silly nonsense, Howard was a poor salesman.

Vince went to relieve Howard of his duties. He found him on his hands and knees in the storeroom, bum facing the entrance. He was picking up handfuls of something small--Vince couldn't make out what--and the things kept rolling away from him.

Howard cursed, sighed, sat back on his heels, and said, "I can't do this anymore."

"Need a hand?" Vince asked, pretending he thought Howard was talking about the mess on the floor.

Howard's shoulders squared. "No. No. I've got this."

Howard clearly didn't, but Vince wouldn't argue. It was their new thing--not arguing. It should've been a good thing, only it meant that nothing they said to each other was worth arguing over.

On an impulse, Vince reached forward and put his hand on Howard's right shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Howard lifted his own hand and it came to rest on top of Vince's.

Vince held his breath, wondering how long this might last. 

But before either of them could end it, the bottom dropped out out from beneath their feet, and they were falling.

Or that was how it felt. They landed--if it could be called a landing--in precisely the position they'd been in before the fall. It was almost as if they'd not moved at all, only now the lights had gone out.

Howard whispered, "Did you feel that?"

"Yeah," Vince answered. "Think we're not in the storeroom anymore."

"Really Dorothy? You think that? What gave it away?" 

Vince pulled his hand from Howard's shoulder and Howard stood up and they were face to face--at least, Vince thought they were. He couldn't see Howard's face, but he could feel that tiny-eyed glare.

"You did something," Howard said, just as Vince was about to say the same thing.

"I didn't do anything! You must've done it."

"Yeah? What do you think I did? Waved me magic wand and--Naboo!"

Vince chuckled. "That the magic word, is it?"

Howard just shouted it out again, "Naboo!"

"Don't think he can hear you."

Howard grunted. "Got your phone?"

Vince nodded, then remembered and said, "Yeah. Hang on." He dialled Naboo's number, not surprised when he got nothing. "No reception in here."

"Brilliant. Alright. And where the hell is here?"

Vince took the phone and held it up and spun round slowly. He saw a wall--smooth and brown, like it was made of mud, or moulded of chocolate. He turned a bit more and saw more of the same wall, then Howard in front of more of that same wall, then more wall. 

"We're in a hole," he said, then held the phone up above them. Then he held it down at their feet. More wall, though he supposed that, as they were stood on it, it was more of a floor. And above them? Not a roof. The lid? It was like they were in a biscuit tin made of chocolate. And they were the biscuits.

Howard quietly said, "Turn off the phone."

Vince did, and once again, they were blind. There was no light at all. 

Vince did the only thing he could think of. He inched forward until he bumped into Howard, then flung his arms around his waist, pressing his cheek on Howard's chest. Howard's arms came wrap around him and Vince felt some of the panic receed.

After a moment, Vince whispered, "There's no door."

"Has to be one, else how'd we get in?"

"Magic?"

"Right. Right. Magic. That makes... Absolutely no sense, actually. Who makes a room out of mud just large enough for two people standing upright?"

Vince felt Howard's heartbeat speed up. He wanted to say something, but couldn't think of something clever. The biscuit idea now seemed a bit terrifying. How big would a thing be to have people for tea? 

Also, it had just come to him that, with no doors or windows, there shouldn't be any air. Only saying that aloud would take up some of that air, as would Howard's panicked shouting, as that's what Howard would do.

He held onto Howard, and Howard held onto him. It was very quiet. Vince found himself shutting his eyes, as it was awful staring into nothing. He kept forgetting to blink.

"We shan't die here." Howard sounded confident of that. Vince felt less confident.

Vince waited for something to change. Wait long enough, and something would always change. Howad said it was entropy. Everything fell apart. People got old, died, rotted away.

This, Vince decided, was not a good line of thought.

"Say it," Vince said, finally, unable to tolerate the silence.

"Say what?"

"'Don't touch me.' Or... 'Don't hurt me. I've got so much to give!' Say that. Yeah."

"Vince, if this is to be our end, I'd rather you touch me than not." Howard's voice was soft and low. "And as for the other, there's hardly a point in my begging for my life if there's no one to hear me but you."

"Oh."

"I'm also no longer sure I've got all that much to give." Howard's voice had gone even quieter, only just above a whisper.

"Howard, don't." It wasn't at all fair. Howard might need comfort, but Vince wasn't through being angry. He needed more time. What if he reassured Howard and said nice things to him and then they didn't die, after all? Could he call take backs?

Maybe he could. They'd done it on the rooftop. Before that, they'd done it in the Tundra. Only, since they'd got together they'd been taking fewer steps back and more steps forward.

"Alright, look, if we're really done for, then you can take it as given that you're the finest man I've ever met, etcetera. You're forgiven and I love you." Vince nodded to himself. There. That sounded alright. "That way, no one's got reason to haunt anyone, yeah?"

Howard sighed. "And if we live through this, what then...?"

Vince frowned. Howard's heart was going, "Ba-dum. Bad-um. Bad-um."

"If we live, then what I say now don't count, as it was said under duress."

"That sounds fair." 

Vince felt himself relax. That was better. "So--if we're dead and all, is there anything you want me to know?"

"We shan't die here. So, no."

"You keep saying that. What makes you so sure?"

"Vince, when I die, I'll either die in my sleep, a very, very old man, or I'll die in some way that'll be hideously embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than Elvis?"

"No doubt. And I don't see, 'asphyxiated in small, brown room' rating."

Vince thought about that. It was a good point. "What if we're in some giant's anus?"

Howard laughed. "With neither entrance nor, ahem, exit?"

Vince grinned into the darkness. "Maybe we're inside a hollowed out piece of shit inside a giant's anus?"

"Maybe we were shrunk and now we're so small--"

"That we're inside a piece of shit inside of Elvis?"

Vince snickered. Then he chuckled, finally he belted out a loud whoop. Howard, too, was laughing, and they clutched at each other rather desperately as the small, brown room filled with their howls of laughter.

Vince only barely heard a sound that wasn't so much a sound as it was his ears popping as they did in an aeroplane.

Then there was light--too bright to see. His eyes teared up, then he could see... 

Howard and the shelves in the storeroom--and--"Naboo?! What--where--"

"Naboo! What the fuck did you do?" Howard was growling and abruptly pushed Vince away.

Naboo took a step back from the storeroom entrance.

"Howard, Naboo didn't--"

Howard took a step toward Naboo, and Naboo began speaking quickly. "You weren't in any actual danger!"

"Funny I can't say the same about you!" Howard raised up a fist and Naboo disappeared. Howard stepped out into the shop and Vince followed.

Naboo was stood behind Bollo, using him for a shield.

Howard didn't seem worried as he thundered over to them.

"Howard, I'm sure he didn't mean any-"

"What did you do?"

"Harold hit Naboo, he go through Bollo first."

Howard sneered. "Howard's fist will go through Bollo's mouth and out the back of his head if Naboo doesn't speak. You have till the count of three. One, two, th--"

"We thought you two needed some time alone to work things out."

"Some time alone?" Vince asked, hearing his own voice rise up in shock. "Work what out?"

Bollo rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Was his idea. You two harshing the mellow."

Naboo peered out from behind Bollo, adding, "Admit it. You were laughing just now."

Howard turned round and gave Vince a look that suggested he was done. "Do I look to be laughing?"

"Naboo, you kidnapped me and Howard. That's not right!" Vince offered.

Naboo just shrugged. "I gave you some time together."

"You put us in a--a thing!"

Naboo grinned. "Its not a thing. It's an interdimensional pocket where I keep my stash in the event of a raid. You were perfectly safe."

Howard abruptly turnt and went upstairs, waving two fingers behind his back. 

Vince sighed. "Look, Naboo, Bollo, I really do appreciate what you you were trying to do, but Howard and I'll work things out in our own time, alright?"

Bollo lowered his eyes, looking chastened. "Sorry, Vince."

"Naboo?"

"Sorry, Vince," Naboo echoed, managing to sound completely insincere. 

"Whatever. I'm going up to talk to Howard."

He turnt and went upstairs. At the top, he took off his boots.

Howard was in the bedroom, laid out on the bed on top of the duvet, head propped on both pillows, reading. He'd taken off his shoes and shirt and changed into pyjama bottoms and an old white t-shirt with yellow sweat stains. Vince hated that shirt. The stains bothered him. He'd nearly binned it, but Howard liked sleeping in it, and Vince had begun to like it because it was so very Howard. Now, though, he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Howard being Howard was not always such a good thing.

"Alright, Howard?" he asked, when Howard didn't acknowledge him stood there at the side of the bed.

Howard lowered the book. "Fine. You?"

"Don't do that. You're not fine." Vince crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm being polite."

Vince frowned down at him. "Well, stop it. Be polite with someone else."

Howard picked his book back up. "Right, then. Sod off. I'm reading."

Vince sat himself on the edge of the bed, making it bounce. "Look, what we said in there..."

"It was said under duress." Howard said, softly, keeping his eyes fixed on his book.

Vince recognised he'd said that. Only now he wished he hadn't. "Right. Well, I'm knackered."

Vince expected Howard to get up, only he just shifted over from the middle to his side. 

Vince stood and stripped off his clothing and then slid under the duvet, beside Howard.

He shut his eyes. 

After a few moments, Howard got up out of bed and Vince thought he was leaving, but, instead, he climbed under the duvet, stretched out on his side, facing Vince.

Vince kept his eyes shut even when he felt Howard move in very close. He kept his eyes shut when he rolled over to face Howard and let their limbs tangle.

In his head, he pretended they were still in the dark place, holding each other. His face was pressed against Howard's chest, and Howard's chin was resting on top of his head, and he fell asleep to the measured beat of Howard's heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love.


End file.
